Typewriters Aren’t Just for Hipsters

I suspect that all writers embark upon a journey to discover what writing process best works for them. Some succeed. And of those who don’t, I fear that most of them eventually give up writing entirely. The latter described me not that long ago.

If you looked at my desk (you might have seen it on some of my videos) you’ll notice that I have a penchant for old things. Currently, you’d find a chunk of volcanic rock, a tall wax candle, an old brass hour glass, and a small stack of books from the 1800s. I’ve always been that way incline, but in recent years, as the world becomes more saturated in that which isn’t real, I’ve felt an even stronger pull towards that which is real, and what is more real than something you can hold in your hands?

It was just a matter of time before that bled into my writing process. Actually, that isn’t quite true, because my work has always had a handwritten element. In the early days, that took the form of handwritten stories in a notebook. Later, it meant handwritten plotting cards before drafting on the computer.

But something always felt missing from my process. In an effort to find out what that something was, I tried everything under the sun, from dictation and book mapping to countless different story structures and writing in exotic locations. But none of it worked. Because no matter what I changed, the lion’s share of the work
—in other words drafting—on my laptop. The environment or other details may have changed, but the core part of the process remained the same.

After weathering a particularly long dry spell, I turned to handwriting in a notebook out of sheer frustration. I looked it up on YouTube and was delighted to discover an old videio featuring Roals Dahl, where he walked the interviewer through his writing process, which involved him sitting in a garden shed in a comfy armchair and writing his stories on paper using a pencil. So I decided to give it a go. And it worked! At least for a while. I love the flow and feel of writing this way, but trouble is my finger gets sore after holding a stylus for any length of time. And that’s before we get to the fact that my handwriting makes doctor scrawl look like art!

I realized that writing with something real—and by real I mean using something tangible I could see and feel (in other words non-digital)—made all the difference in how my mind connected to story. Flow came almost instantly, and I rediscovered a pure joy I’d lost somewhere along the way. So I needed to find another solution that was also real. So I looked at my desk and noticed some of the old things on there, and that’s when it occurred to me. I should really give a typewriter a try! It was so obvious and felt so right that I slapped myself.

But it couldn’t be an old broken typewriter I would need to repair. That would introduce too much friction, and it’d just end up gathering dust in the back of a cupboard. I needed to get a typewriter that I knew would work straight out of the box. So I looked around the interwebs and found a typewriters repair workshop that wasn’t too far away. I clicked on their stock and was immediately fell in love with an amber Brother 210 Deluxe. She was colorful, and bold, and curvaceous. She was also prohibitively expensive. I mean, she was $300. But I was behind rent (again), there was not food in the cupboards (again), and my car was booked in for a very costly repair (again).

I left the website and hung my head and wept. Okay, I didn’t cry, but my heart did sink. Not because I couldn’t afford something I didn’t need.

But because deep down something told me I needed this more than anything else. Which in retrospect seems really childish and irresponsible, but (also in retrospect) I couldn’t have been more right.

Because I got the typewriter on Klarna, and the moment it arrived, my life completely changed.

It took a while to learn how to set her up and work her properly. And then I had to figure out how format a pace so as to fit around 1,000 words so my dumb ass didn’t have to sum too many numbers after a day’s work. But once I had the basics locked in, I caught fire!

I got back into an early morning routine because I just couldn’t wait to get up every morning and type another four to eight pages. It was like falling in love with writing all over again, and it was wonderful.

Before I knew it, six weeks had gone by and I’d somehow managed to amass north of 215,000 words! My jaw hit the floor when I added up all the pages. I wasn’t really counting as I went. I just typed a page, popped it in my paper tray, then promptly moved onto the next one. Now, I will say that those words aren’t the cleanest and that I’ll be editing for a few months before I can get back to typing the next book. But it sure feels great to have the writing winds back in my sails.

I’m not here to convert anyone to do anything. Typewriters aren’t for everything. That said, I’ve rediscovered the magic I once felt in writing, and if you’ve lost that along the way, maybe it’ll work for you too.

I learned a whole bunch of things along the way. Let me share a few of them with you.

You’ll Work Faster on a Typewritwer

Not that writing should be all about speed. One of the greatest discoveries I made about writing (and life in general) was the importance in slowing down, and even stopping, for a while. That said a typewriter is a HARD disconnect from distractions. It can’t play TikTok videos, send emails, open new tabs, or ping you with a notification about your Durex subscription renewal while asking your boss to double check an invoice detail on your screen.

On paper, a laptop should be much faster. And it would be if it weren’t distraction central. A typewriter might add a step into your process, but being forced to slow down isn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially when you get more done in the same amount of time because you aren’t constantly being distracted and losing flow and momentum.

If you’re all about productivity, you’ll be surprised how much more you can get done with a typewriter.

It Reduces Editing While You Write

If you’re anything like me, you probably struggle to get into the flow when typing on your laptop or keyboard because you keep stopping to edit. This might seem efficient on the surface, but stopping and starting over and over again uses up a lot more energy than if you were to just get the first draft written then and back and clean it up later.

That said, there’s a certain level of security that comes from editing on the fly. For example, while drafting I sometimes have a great idea that I can’t quite formulate in the moment, so I need to put it somewhere. The good news is, you can still add notes regarding addition and changes while using a typewriter. If you were to look at any of the chapter I draft this way you’d notice at least several section enclosed in square brackets.

If I’m drafting and I just HAVE to type an new thought, I can just open a bracket, type that out and close it off. So you needn’t be afraid of being restricted because you can’t include little developmental notes to yourself for later. Because you can. But using a typewriter does reduce how often you stop to fix typos, grammar, or other small mistakes that should really be handled during line editing anyway.

It’s Real

I already touched on this. And it’s by far the most important reason but also the most difficult to quantify. It’s more something you feel than something you can reduce to words or numbers. There’s just something magical beyond the haptic feedback of the keys and the chime of the bell when you’ve reached the end of the line, something to do with making what is in your mind material here and now. With computers, we birth our stories into a virtual reality, where they live on a hard drive until later. When using a typewriter, than act of creation gains substance. Writing into the physical world has a different shape and weight about it. It’s a satisfaction and fulfillment more akin to what you feel when crafting things with your own hands. Yet, my words do little to communicate the true nature of it. When you type a book on a typewriter, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

I could list a few other reasons, but these are the ones that struck me the hardest. And I truly wasn’t exaggerating when I said that using a typewriter changed my life. It facilitated my breathing life into The King’s Lantern. And that has gifted me with a level of fulfillment I have never before felt when writing.

Like I said, using a typewriter isn’t for everyone, but it definitely is for me, and my only regret is not trying it sooner. Then again, I guess all things happen in their own time!

I encourage you to give it a try if it calls to you. You never know. You might just find a key you didn’t realize you were looking for. And it might unlock a whole other level for you.

Or not! But you’ll never know if you never try!

Until next time, dear traveler.

Keep your sword sharp and your senses sharper.

Ganimore